


Our Love Will Be An Epic Film

by Wowyoucanmakethis40characterslongamazing



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Just a drabble, Kebab Shop AU, M/M, No Smut, Pining, Sorry Not Sorry, although its not really mentioned, half of it doesn't make sense, larry - Freeform, lourry, thats it i think, the others dont exist lol woops sorry, they think a lot in this one, uh, um way too much fluff, wait no
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2013-11-17
Packaged: 2018-01-01 19:26:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1047679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wowyoucanmakethis40characterslongamazing/pseuds/Wowyoucanmakethis40characterslongamazing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Louis are best friends who work together in a kebab shop and yeah harry is a pining idiot who likes to hide poems in Louis' bag.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Love Will Be An Epic Film

**Author's Note:**

> Very rushed and not very well written, not edited and horrible layout but oh well. Enjoy!
> 
> I don't own One Direction and none of this is real.

_“Roses are red,_

_Violets are blue I love your eyes_

_And your butt too”_

 

It’s easy like this, Harry thinks. To let Louis know the thoughts that run through his mind without having to actually use his voice. It’s easy not having to worry about trying to control his face or what comes out of his mouth.

So he slips the note into Louis’ carry bag when he’s in the staff room, and is quick to get back to the counter to serve the next customer to walk into the shop.

He notices the bright smile that doesn’t leave Louis’ face for the rest of the day.

 

-

 

It’s become a nice routine, Harry thinks. As they snuggle into the couch on another Thursday night after work to watch Friends re-runs.

The way they both just fit together. The way they laugh at the same time. The way they sigh at the end of every episode.

The way Harry says _“You’re so Monika”_

And the way that Louis pushes him off the couch, softly replying _“Only if you’re my Chandler”_

Harry knows he’s just kidding, but it’s okay, he doesn’t mind pretending that Louis means it.

 

-

 

It starts to sink in after the 5th poem.

Louis is sitting at his chair in the staff room, reading it over and over again.

 

_“I wanted to say a lot of things:_

_I wanted to say how often lately your bright image has wandered through_

_The dark rooms of my mind;_

_I wanted to say how good it is_

_To wake up every morning_

_Knowing that the day contains_

_Something that is you_

_I wanted to say how much I love you.”_  
  
  
And it hits him, the butterflies in his tummy, his sweaty, shaky hands this morning when he was telling harry about his weekend.  
  
He has feelings for his best friend, his best friend has feelings for him.

_Shit_ , He thinks. _Shit shit shit shit shit_.

He spends the rest of the day trying not to think about the fact that all he wants to do is pull Harry into a bone crushing hug and say, _“Just say it, Haz”._

 

-

 

It’s definitely not normal, Harry thinks. As he’s lying in bed on his laptop looking for more poems to slip into Louis’ bag.

It’s not normal that he’s okay with being so in love with his best mate, even if Louis doesn’t feel the same.

And it _hurts_ , deep in his bones. But he pushes it away, because he’s Happy just to have Louis, even if he can’t give him endless kisses and whisper lame poems into his ear at the early hours of the morning.

 

_“Our love will be an epic film_

_With dancing songs and laughter_

_The kind in which the lovers meet_

_And live happy ever after”_

 

Perfect, Harry thinks, as he jots it down.

 

-

 

Idiot, Louis thinks, as he’s shoving yet another poem into the top draw of his bedside table.

It’s getting out of hand, really. The poems more meaningful, more real. He needs to do something about it, he thinks. But maybe not. Maybe Harry will just come to his senses and realize how Louis feels.

He spends the rest of his night reading the poems and wishing Harry would just hurry the fuck up and kiss him, he’s getting rather impatient.

 

-

 

It happens on a Tuesday afternoon, two weeks after the last poem. Harry’s wiping down the counter when the radio in the back of the shop gets louder and Louis comes to stand in front of him, with his hand outstretched. Waiting for Harry to dance with him like they always do when the shop isn’t busy.

But as he goes to step around the counter he’s stopped, and all of a sudden he’s toppling over the counter, bent at an awkward angle with the wood digging into his stomach, but he doesn’t mind. Because there’s lips on his, and they’re moving slowly. He’s physically frozen, but in his mind its nothing but

_Fuckfuckfuck, it’s happening_.

He snaps out of it, eventually. And kisses Louis back.

 

-

 

And later, when Harry’s lying on top of Louis, exhausted and giggling, He leans down to Louis’ ear and whispers;

 

_“Our love will be a famous play_

_With lots of bedroom scenes_

_You are twenty-two you are Monika_

_And only we know what that means”_

 

Louis just laughs, nothing but fond, and replies with,

_“I love you, you lame idiot”._

 

-

fin.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me as lianastagram on tumblr :)


End file.
